It doesn't smell like that on me!

I have been looking online for discussions about which scents smell like cat pee, and which ingredients are the trigger. It's perplexing: various writers attribute it to different perfumes, and to different ingredients in those perfumes.

The response of perfume lovers to criticism of their favorite scent is an interesting insight into cognitive dissonance.

Many report 'some weird people say it smells like cat pee...well it doesn't smell like that on me!' In spite of folk wisdom that 'a fart has no nose'. Some - many? - attribute liking the scent to having a more educated and discerning nose.

Perfume does smell different on different people, but if someone told me my perfume smelled bad, I'd seek further feedback. In the perfume industry, it's believed that 'great' perfumes tend to be the ones that are most divisive: you either love or loathe them. Even a panel of perfume-istas won't agree on which perfumes belong on which list. Hence the same perfumes often appear on both best and worst perfume lists.

Several fans responded smugly by saying, 'I'm lucky, it smells good on me.' This may be followed by 'I'm one of the ones it chose ton reveal itself to.' Wow, I must be special because this cat pee smells great on me (to me at least). Buffy eat your heart out.

There is something in this. Body chemistry varies, and this affects the volatile ingredients in perfume. Which is why you should never buy without trying just because a perfume smells good on someone else. Still,'other people hate my perfume but I know it smells good and they are just ignorant' is a risky interpersonal decision.

One writer even complained that she was banned from wearing any perfume at work because 'this one time' she put on a bit too much of one quite heavy perfume. Thinking of my many and several work places, I am awed by the amount of built up angst that would be necessary before a ban would be proposed let alone enforced... Yeah, sure it was just this one time...

To complete the case study of humanity in action, several perfume lovers reveal that they 'punish' people who don't like their perfume by wearing even more of it. Or wearing another perfume that even they have reservations about. I'm sure that helps.

Perfume is emotional. Smell is directly connected to our limbic system in our brains, which process emotion and bypass logical processes.'You stink' is a powerful insult to hurl at anyone. The identification many people have with their signature fragrance means that even a careful 'it's not you, it's your cologne' will not erase offense.

For a minority of people, estimated to be between 5-20%, mild chemical sensitivity means they can get headache, asthsma or migraine just from being exposed to strong smells. Which just shows how variable people are.

Both sides of the debate remain convinced of their olfactory superiority (perfume lovers and haters), that there is a 'right' and a 'wrong' in the pong debate.

Accidental communication

There's the official story, and then there's the story you tell by accident. It's a good idea to get both stories in sync.  Sounds simple enough, right?

Once upon last week, the CEO* of a large organisation created a staff suggestion box. In various communications the CEO trumpeted a desire to hear from at every level of the business. The CEO stated he feared he wasn't hearing all the good ideas of the rank and file, so he promised to read every single suggestion submitted.

One idealistic employee wrote up a few linked ideas. A staffer from the CEO's office acknowledged receipt:

Thank you for using the suggestion box... I am a bit surprised that you are not feeding this through your supervisor, to your department head and then on to the regional manager - that would be the normal 'chain of command'.

*All identifying details have been removed to protect both the innocent and the guilty.

It shouldn't happen to a dog.

Do you treat the dog* better than you treat yourself?

I was inspired to ask this by a recent stint of dog-sitting. It's both a big honour and a big responsibility to care for someone's pet. This dog is the apple of its owners' eyes, and a bit delicate to boot, so I was determined not to have it die on my watch.

During the month the dog was with us we religiously walked the dog every day, often twice a day - occasionally thrice. A dog who is not walked or otherwise entertained is either very sad or demanding of human company and gets into mischief. So it was in my interest (and that of my furniture) to consider the dog's needs.

The dog must be fed regularly. It's up to the humans to make sure the dog gets enough-but-not-too-much food. You have to give them fresh water every day.

As the dog is away from its loved ones, you have to keep it company. You have to play games with it, and pat it occasionally. You have to brush its coat to keep it free of burrs. You have to keep an eye on its behaviour and its eating and elimination so you know when its sick. Then you have to take it to the vet - or indeed the animal emergency hospital if it gets sick in the middle of the night.

Mr O‡ argues that I'm not fooling anyone, I took care of the dog for its own sake, because it was a living creature and relied on us to meet its needs. (He may even have said something soppy about that being one of the reasons he loves me. Men can be sentimental about women's nurturing instincts.)

One day, someone wise said to me: "You care for the d*** dog a lot better than you care for yourself, it seems to me." I wanted to deny it, but... well... I couldn't. Its true.

Logically I am just as deserving as a dog of a bit of consideration when it comes to basic needs, but that's not what I do. Another gap between intention and strategy. Really, it shouldn't happen to a dog.

* or cat, horse, rabbit, guinea pig, small child, parrot, budgerigar, elderly parent or goldfish, if you prefer.

‡ Mr Opinionatedchildlesswoman

This is post 16 of 100 posts in 100 days.